Post by Fourever Charmed on Jan 26, 2007 16:23:40 GMT -5
Summary: Months after Andy's death, Prue is still suffering. She continuously visits his grave to talk to him and tell him about the events of her life, as if he's still there.
Rating: PG-13
A/N: I was listening to this song in the car on my way home from school today, and although I had to creatively adapt parts of this song to fit a Charmed song fic, I knew the chorus was just too perfect for a Pandy (Prue/Andy) fic to pass up. The song if LeAnn Rimes’ Probably Wouldn’t Be This Way.
“Who ya talkin’ to?” Phoebe Halliwell slipped into the kitchen with the sunshinest smile upon her young face. She skirted around her eldest sister, Prue, and grabbed just brewed coffee pot.
Prudence stared at her sister for a long beat, trying to be careful in her reply. Her long, slender fingers fumbled around the sides of the cordless phone. “Thomas Austin,” she said quietly.
“Thomas Austin?” Phoebe wiggled her brows in interest. “Are you talking about that same guy from Bucklands? I thought you said that everyone thinks he’s a little,” she began to spin her index finger against her temple, “crazy?”
“No, Phoebe, that’s Austin Thomas, the new janitor! Thomas Austin is Father Austin’s son.”
“Father Austin?” Phoebe’s brows creased as the hot, brown liquid splashed into her ceramic cup. A puff of hot steam bounced from the circular opening. “Oh!” Her head dropped a little. “Father Austin,” she said again. This time her voice was far lower. The memories came rushing back to her. “Andy’s priest,” she said quietly. “Wh…uhm…what were you talking to him for?”
“Actually, I called to talked to Father Austin himself. But he was sleeping…It’s been a long, slow recovery for him since the attacks made on him by the Rowe brothers. Anyway, I made plans to meet with him and Thomas a week from Friday.”
“His son’s going too?” The younger witch placed the steaming cup to her lips and began to slowly nurse it.
“Father Austin hasn’t been able to drive since the attacks.”
Phoebe nodded respectfully. “Why did you want to see him?”
Prue turned away. She could feel salt water beginning to peck at the back of her eyes. “Just to talk about things…Talk about Andy.”
“Oh.” Phoebe pursed her lips. Secretly, she’d been hoping that things were getting better for her big sister where Andy Trudeau was concerned, but apparently not. “I’m sorry-”
“Forget it, Phoebe.”
“But Prue-”
“It’s fine!” The eldest snapped. “Forget it.” She slammed the phone back into its charger with a little more force than she’d originally intended. “I’m going out.”
“Where?” Phoebe asked, racing after her big sister.
“Anywhere!” Prue yelled as she grabbed her black leather jacket from the coat rack and jolted out the front doors.
Prue’s knuckles turned white as she pulled the gear shift into reverse, and tore backwards out of the driveway. Secretly, Prue was glad that she’d been able to turn Phoebe’s innocent words into somewhat of a confrontation. It gave her a chance to escape her younger sister’s presence, and it had been just in time. She didn’t know how much longer she would have been able to keep her emotions in check.
The raven haired witch blinked back the tears that were attempting to chase the ones already sliding down her reddened cheeks. It had been like this almost every day since Andy’s funeral…but only when she knew she was completely alone. The super witch would never let anyone else see her cry.
An eternity seemed to pass as she turned through the maze of cars and people and one way streets that made of San Francisco. But eventually, Prue Halliwell found herself parked in front of the same cemetery she’d been sneaking off to for weeks now. She’d frequented the path so much that, if she wanted, she could find her way there with a blindfold on.
She let out a shaky breath as she pushed open the driver’s side door. A rush of chilly morning air greeted her bare arms, instantly causing a bumpy texture to replace her smooth skin. The sky was a cool, overcast gray. It seemed to echo the feelings she felt inside. And far off, she could smell the faintest hint of the rain to come. Just like the tears that would no doubt come.
Prue elicited a little sob as she shuffled along the serpentine dirt path that lead through the cemetery. A tear swept over her cheek and crashed into the dirt below her feet. Prue didn’t seem to notice. She was only focused on the headstone in the distance. A caused that much more of her heart to break and crumble away.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed within seconds of reaching the shiny stone. “I didn’t have a chance to bring a fresh rose today.” Her creamy fingers caressed the smooth edge of the grave marker. “I wasn’t really expecting to come until later,” she confessed. “But things were just so crazy at home.” Prue absently wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand. Black, runny mascara left a long dark streak on her eyes and hand. It looked as though she’d recently gotten two black eyes.
Prue ran her hands over the single rose she’d left Andy the previous day. The petals were still dark and supple, and they felt like satin to the touch. She twirled the rose between her fingers, admiring its simple beauty. Then she let out a little cry. A crimson dot, half the size of a dime, had arisen on her right index finger. One of the rose’s thorns had pricked her. She laughed bitterly.
“Isn’t it strange how something that seems so insignificant can hurt so bad?” She was now referring to Inspector Rodriquez, the demon who’d taken her lover’s life. Prue had been so sure that she could take him; he’d been a low level demon and an easy vanquish for her, and surely nothing against the Power of Three. Yet he had still managed to take one of the most valuable things in her life. Andy was something she could never get back.
She allowed the rose to slip from her fingers and find its way back to the base of the headstone, where it settled into the velvety green grass that was growing there. Prue wiped her bloody finger across the grass. There was still a thin layer of early morning frost on the green surface, and the cold felt good on her stinging finger.
“Guess what.” Her voice was ever so much softer now. “I finally got the pictures from Jackson developed.” Prue dipped her hand into her purse, pulling out a small yellow and white envelope. “I waited to open them until I could share them with you. I mean,” her voice cracked as she broke the seal, “it was the summer vacation you had planned in the first place.”
The witch fumbled with the first picture. She smiled slightly as she turned the shiny photograph towards the headstone. “This is the Jackson Gate, on the north end of Jackson Creek.” She grabbed the next picture. “And this is the front of the Butte Store, which is the only building left from eighteen-fifties Butte City mining town.” She tucked the two pictures to the bottom of the pile and pulled up the next one.
“Do you remember these? The cowboy boots I bought to show you a couple weeks after I went to Jackson? Well, the Butte Store was the place I got them at.” The corners of her mouth curved upwards as she laughed. “They reminded me of the ones you used to wear when we were kids and you’d dress up like a cowboy.”
The witch dabbed at the corner of her eye, wiping away another stray tear. “And here are a few pictures I took of the Kennedy and Argonaut Mines.” She quickly tucked several more pictures under the pile as she continued to hold up and explain them to Andy’s headstone.
“And here’s one of me,” she said, coming near to the end of the stack. “This old couple stopped and asked if I’d like them to take one of me, because I seemed to be alone. They didn’t think I should go home without having at least one souvenir picture that had me in it.” She gently held up the picture. “It was taken in front of Jackson’s Pioneer Hall.”
Prue gathered all of the photos and tucked them into a neat, clean stack and slid them back into the envelope in which she’d pulled them out of. “And did I tell you that Phoebe actually got up the gumption to rake the leaves last weekend?” She rolled her blue eyes. “Miracles never cease, right? But hey, at least I won’t have to pay that neighbor boy to rake them for me.”
The Charmed One ran her hand through her raven hair. “I’m probably just droning on, aren’t I? I hope I’m not boring you. It’s just…that seems to be happening to me a lot lately. If it’s not rambling, then I’ve either thrown myself into my work or I’m here…with you.”
Prue pulled her legs to her chest. The wind was beginning to pick up and her raven hair was flitting around the sides of her face, and getting into her eyes. However, the thought of leaving was like a dagger through her heart. To be so close to Andy, even in death, gave her a comfort she couldn’t find anywhere else.
“This isn’t fair,” she whimpered suddenly. “You didn’t deserve to go like this!” She gingerly traced his name with her shaky fingers. “You deserved so much more, Andy. So much more! You should’ve gotten your white picket fence and your house of screaming kids.”
The Charmed One’s lip trembled, and above, thunder groaned. Her hand balled into a fist, clamping around a clump of cold grass. She angrily yanked it from the ground and tossed it into the air. “This wasn’t meant to happen. This was my fault. I should’ve protected you. I should’ve sent you straight out the doors as soon as she came in. Then Rodriquez wouldn’t have been able to take you. It wasn’t your fight, it was mine…and I lost.”
She turned to her knees and crawled along the cold green beneath her, before pushing the rose out of the way and scrunching up next to the headstone. She pressed her cheek to the cold stone and began to sob.
“I can’t stand this anymore,” she choked. “How am I supposed to live without you? You barely came back into my life, and then you were stolen away again. It’s not right. If I had known you’d pay the price for my negligence, I would have made sure our paths would have never crossed again. If it wasn’t for me, things wouldn’t be this way.” Her fingers clawed down the smooth surface of the stone. “I’m so sorry, Andy…”
“You know,” the witch whispered softly, “after high school when you left the first time, I thought I’d never get over how bad it hurt. For the longest time, I’d sit in my room and talk to myself, pretending that you were there. I’d say all the things I wanted and meant to tell you, but never had the nerve to say out loud…or the things that my pride just wouldn’t let me tell you.”
The raven haired witch looked down at her red fingers. She laced them together and then began to absently pick at her cuticles. “Grams caught me once. She overheard my ramblings, and she came in to see what was going on. It didn’t take that long for her to finally get it out of me. And do you know what she told me?” Prue closed her eyes, as if reliving the moment.
“She told me she was going to give me the same advice she gave Mom. She said that I shouldn’t talk to you. I shouldn’t think about you. She said I should put my energy to good use and make use of the pain.” Her shoulders slouched. “I always knew she was never fond of men, but there was just something in her eyes and a far off tone in her voice that made me sure she wasn’t just taking the opportunity to talk about how awful the male gender really is.”
Prue’s lips, now tinted with a very pale cotton candy blue, quivered in the frigid morning air. “In the days following your de…departure, I tried to put her words to use. Oh Andy, I tried so hard to focus on anything besides you. But I couldn’t. I can’t. You haunt my thoughts, my memories, my dreams…You’re everywhere. I know you don’t mean to be, but you are. I can’t do anything without you anymore. You’re so close and yet so far, far away.”
She scrubbed her arm with her fingers, trying to rub warmth back into it. Her entire body was slowly beginning to numb from the cold. “I got a letter from Susan today. Your ex-wife, remember? I couldn’t believe my eyes when I opened it. She said she hadn’t gotten word about what happened until a few weeks ago, but she said she still wanted to send her condolences. Apparently, so she says, you talked about me a lot when you were together. She said by the way you talked about me, I was probably the closest thing to family besides your parents. And she said the hardest thing to do is move on, but that’s what I should make an honest effort to do. She said,” Prue snapped, “that it would be easier that way!”
Prue’s teeth clattered together. “Well, what does she know? Has she ever lost someone as important as you?” She shook her head, allowing her dark hair to stick to her face. “She doesn’t know how hard it is. None of them do! You should see how they all look at me, Andy. They don’t know a thing. Piper and Phoebe, especially. They’re too young to remember how much it hurt when we lost Mom, and although Grams’ death was hard, we knew it was coming. But you…you still had your whole life ahead of you!” She could taste blood as her teeth sunk into her lower lip. “A whole life that I thought we were going to share together.”
Prudence buried her head into her knees, sobbing softly once more. The once strong, fearless leader of the Power of Three was now just a crumbling, grief stricken woman. Susceptible to the pain of loss, just like anybody and everybody else. Every day, a little more of her died inside. Every day without Andy, it killed her just a little more, and every time it was like another stab through her heart.
A cool breeze rustled the licorice locks on the side of her face. She lifted her head, staring across the cemetery with bleary vision. Her heart gave a heavy jolt. For a moment, she thought she could see the faintest outline of a man in a dark suit and crumby sneakers, with a handsome jaw line and the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen. She lifted her hand, stretching it out as far as she could to touch him. “A-Andy?”
Prue’s fought back the urge to blink. Her body ached as she leaned that much farther in a pleading attempt to touch him one more time. And then her eyes shut for the briefest of seconds in one, swift blink. And he was gone. She let out another strained sob. “No! Andy, come back!”
Prue staggered to her feet, numbly reaching out for her lover. But Andy was gone. He’d been gone for a long time now, and he was never coming back. He couldn’t come back, and she knew it. The reality of the situation made her feel nauseas and weak. Prue clutched her stomach in a vain attempt to calm her swirling insides. “What did I tell you?” She asked, barely above a whisper. “You haunt me where ever I go.” A mascara laden tear fell from her cheek, spattering fine black liquid onto the outer petals of the rose that lay at Prue’s feet.
“I have to go now,” she whispered. “But I’ll be back to see you soon. Maybe tomorrow?” Prue ran her fingers across the edge of the headstone again. “And I’ll bring you a new rose, too, okay? I promise.” Her lips quivered. “And I won’t break this one, I swear.” She collected her purse and took a few steps away from the headstone.
“Andy,” she said suddenly. “I forgot to tell you.” Her voice was too calm. It was clear that she’d buried all of her pain away, until the next time she was alone with him. “I’m seeing Father Austin and his son a week from Friday.” She swallowed hard. “He’s doing much better, by the way.” Her blue eyes studied the stone. “Is there anything you’d like me to tell him for you?” Silence filled the air…and then she nodded. “Okay.”
Prue turned slowly and began to walk down the same path she followed to get to the grave. A small noise broke from deep in her throat, but it was hidden by the clap of thunder overhead. As she blinked, two black tears carved lines down her cheeks and fell towards the dirt path. Above, the sky tore open, releasing a torrent of freezing rain upon San Francisco. And Prue began to run.
Rating: PG-13
A/N: I was listening to this song in the car on my way home from school today, and although I had to creatively adapt parts of this song to fit a Charmed song fic, I knew the chorus was just too perfect for a Pandy (Prue/Andy) fic to pass up. The song if LeAnn Rimes’ Probably Wouldn’t Be This Way.
Stone Hearts
“Who ya talkin’ to?” Phoebe Halliwell slipped into the kitchen with the sunshinest smile upon her young face. She skirted around her eldest sister, Prue, and grabbed just brewed coffee pot.
Prudence stared at her sister for a long beat, trying to be careful in her reply. Her long, slender fingers fumbled around the sides of the cordless phone. “Thomas Austin,” she said quietly.
“Thomas Austin?” Phoebe wiggled her brows in interest. “Are you talking about that same guy from Bucklands? I thought you said that everyone thinks he’s a little,” she began to spin her index finger against her temple, “crazy?”
“No, Phoebe, that’s Austin Thomas, the new janitor! Thomas Austin is Father Austin’s son.”
“Father Austin?” Phoebe’s brows creased as the hot, brown liquid splashed into her ceramic cup. A puff of hot steam bounced from the circular opening. “Oh!” Her head dropped a little. “Father Austin,” she said again. This time her voice was far lower. The memories came rushing back to her. “Andy’s priest,” she said quietly. “Wh…uhm…what were you talking to him for?”
“Actually, I called to talked to Father Austin himself. But he was sleeping…It’s been a long, slow recovery for him since the attacks made on him by the Rowe brothers. Anyway, I made plans to meet with him and Thomas a week from Friday.”
“His son’s going too?” The younger witch placed the steaming cup to her lips and began to slowly nurse it.
“Father Austin hasn’t been able to drive since the attacks.”
Phoebe nodded respectfully. “Why did you want to see him?”
Prue turned away. She could feel salt water beginning to peck at the back of her eyes. “Just to talk about things…Talk about Andy.”
“Oh.” Phoebe pursed her lips. Secretly, she’d been hoping that things were getting better for her big sister where Andy Trudeau was concerned, but apparently not. “I’m sorry-”
“Forget it, Phoebe.”
“But Prue-”
“It’s fine!” The eldest snapped. “Forget it.” She slammed the phone back into its charger with a little more force than she’d originally intended. “I’m going out.”
“Where?” Phoebe asked, racing after her big sister.
“Anywhere!” Prue yelled as she grabbed her black leather jacket from the coat rack and jolted out the front doors.
Got a date a week from Friday with the preacher’s son
Everybody says he’s crazy
I’ll have to see
Everybody says he’s crazy
I’ll have to see
Prue’s knuckles turned white as she pulled the gear shift into reverse, and tore backwards out of the driveway. Secretly, Prue was glad that she’d been able to turn Phoebe’s innocent words into somewhat of a confrontation. It gave her a chance to escape her younger sister’s presence, and it had been just in time. She didn’t know how much longer she would have been able to keep her emotions in check.
The raven haired witch blinked back the tears that were attempting to chase the ones already sliding down her reddened cheeks. It had been like this almost every day since Andy’s funeral…but only when she knew she was completely alone. The super witch would never let anyone else see her cry.
An eternity seemed to pass as she turned through the maze of cars and people and one way streets that made of San Francisco. But eventually, Prue Halliwell found herself parked in front of the same cemetery she’d been sneaking off to for weeks now. She’d frequented the path so much that, if she wanted, she could find her way there with a blindfold on.
She let out a shaky breath as she pushed open the driver’s side door. A rush of chilly morning air greeted her bare arms, instantly causing a bumpy texture to replace her smooth skin. The sky was a cool, overcast gray. It seemed to echo the feelings she felt inside. And far off, she could smell the faintest hint of the rain to come. Just like the tears that would no doubt come.
Prue elicited a little sob as she shuffled along the serpentine dirt path that lead through the cemetery. A tear swept over her cheek and crashed into the dirt below her feet. Prue didn’t seem to notice. She was only focused on the headstone in the distance. A caused that much more of her heart to break and crumble away.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed within seconds of reaching the shiny stone. “I didn’t have a chance to bring a fresh rose today.” Her creamy fingers caressed the smooth edge of the grave marker. “I wasn’t really expecting to come until later,” she confessed. “But things were just so crazy at home.” Prue absently wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand. Black, runny mascara left a long dark streak on her eyes and hand. It looked as though she’d recently gotten two black eyes.
Prue ran her hands over the single rose she’d left Andy the previous day. The petals were still dark and supple, and they felt like satin to the touch. She twirled the rose between her fingers, admiring its simple beauty. Then she let out a little cry. A crimson dot, half the size of a dime, had arisen on her right index finger. One of the rose’s thorns had pricked her. She laughed bitterly.
“Isn’t it strange how something that seems so insignificant can hurt so bad?” She was now referring to Inspector Rodriquez, the demon who’d taken her lover’s life. Prue had been so sure that she could take him; he’d been a low level demon and an easy vanquish for her, and surely nothing against the Power of Three. Yet he had still managed to take one of the most valuable things in her life. Andy was something she could never get back.
She allowed the rose to slip from her fingers and find its way back to the base of the headstone, where it settled into the velvety green grass that was growing there. Prue wiped her bloody finger across the grass. There was still a thin layer of early morning frost on the green surface, and the cold felt good on her stinging finger.
“Guess what.” Her voice was ever so much softer now. “I finally got the pictures from Jackson developed.” Prue dipped her hand into her purse, pulling out a small yellow and white envelope. “I waited to open them until I could share them with you. I mean,” her voice cracked as she broke the seal, “it was the summer vacation you had planned in the first place.”
The witch fumbled with the first picture. She smiled slightly as she turned the shiny photograph towards the headstone. “This is the Jackson Gate, on the north end of Jackson Creek.” She grabbed the next picture. “And this is the front of the Butte Store, which is the only building left from eighteen-fifties Butte City mining town.” She tucked the two pictures to the bottom of the pile and pulled up the next one.
“Do you remember these? The cowboy boots I bought to show you a couple weeks after I went to Jackson? Well, the Butte Store was the place I got them at.” The corners of her mouth curved upwards as she laughed. “They reminded me of the ones you used to wear when we were kids and you’d dress up like a cowboy.”
The witch dabbed at the corner of her eye, wiping away another stray tear. “And here are a few pictures I took of the Kennedy and Argonaut Mines.” She quickly tucked several more pictures under the pile as she continued to hold up and explain them to Andy’s headstone.
“And here’s one of me,” she said, coming near to the end of the stack. “This old couple stopped and asked if I’d like them to take one of me, because I seemed to be alone. They didn’t think I should go home without having at least one souvenir picture that had me in it.” She gently held up the picture. “It was taken in front of Jackson’s Pioneer Hall.”
Prue gathered all of the photos and tucked them into a neat, clean stack and slid them back into the envelope in which she’d pulled them out of. “And did I tell you that Phoebe actually got up the gumption to rake the leaves last weekend?” She rolled her blue eyes. “Miracles never cease, right? But hey, at least I won’t have to pay that neighbor boy to rake them for me.”
The Charmed One ran her hand through her raven hair. “I’m probably just droning on, aren’t I? I hope I’m not boring you. It’s just…that seems to be happening to me a lot lately. If it’s not rambling, then I’ve either thrown myself into my work or I’m here…with you.”
I finally moved to Jackson when the summer came
I won’t have to pay that boy to rake my leaves
I’m probably going on and on
It seems I’m doing more of that these days
I won’t have to pay that boy to rake my leaves
I’m probably going on and on
It seems I’m doing more of that these days
Prue pulled her legs to her chest. The wind was beginning to pick up and her raven hair was flitting around the sides of her face, and getting into her eyes. However, the thought of leaving was like a dagger through her heart. To be so close to Andy, even in death, gave her a comfort she couldn’t find anywhere else.
“This isn’t fair,” she whimpered suddenly. “You didn’t deserve to go like this!” She gingerly traced his name with her shaky fingers. “You deserved so much more, Andy. So much more! You should’ve gotten your white picket fence and your house of screaming kids.”
The Charmed One’s lip trembled, and above, thunder groaned. Her hand balled into a fist, clamping around a clump of cold grass. She angrily yanked it from the ground and tossed it into the air. “This wasn’t meant to happen. This was my fault. I should’ve protected you. I should’ve sent you straight out the doors as soon as she came in. Then Rodriquez wouldn’t have been able to take you. It wasn’t your fight, it was mine…and I lost.”
She turned to her knees and crawled along the cold green beneath her, before pushing the rose out of the way and scrunching up next to the headstone. She pressed her cheek to the cold stone and began to sob.
“I can’t stand this anymore,” she choked. “How am I supposed to live without you? You barely came back into my life, and then you were stolen away again. It’s not right. If I had known you’d pay the price for my negligence, I would have made sure our paths would have never crossed again. If it wasn’t for me, things wouldn’t be this way.” Her fingers clawed down the smooth surface of the stone. “I’m so sorry, Andy…”
I probably wouldn’t be this way
I probably wouldn’t hurt so bad
I never pictured every minute without you in it
Oh you left so fast
Sometimes I see you standing there
Sometimes it’s like I’m losing touch
Sometimes I feel that I’m so lucky to have had a chance to love this much
God gave me a moment’s grace
‘Cause if I’d never seen your face
I probably wouldn’t be this way
I probably wouldn’t hurt so bad
I never pictured every minute without you in it
Oh you left so fast
Sometimes I see you standing there
Sometimes it’s like I’m losing touch
Sometimes I feel that I’m so lucky to have had a chance to love this much
God gave me a moment’s grace
‘Cause if I’d never seen your face
I probably wouldn’t be this way
“You know,” the witch whispered softly, “after high school when you left the first time, I thought I’d never get over how bad it hurt. For the longest time, I’d sit in my room and talk to myself, pretending that you were there. I’d say all the things I wanted and meant to tell you, but never had the nerve to say out loud…or the things that my pride just wouldn’t let me tell you.”
The raven haired witch looked down at her red fingers. She laced them together and then began to absently pick at her cuticles. “Grams caught me once. She overheard my ramblings, and she came in to see what was going on. It didn’t take that long for her to finally get it out of me. And do you know what she told me?” Prue closed her eyes, as if reliving the moment.
“She told me she was going to give me the same advice she gave Mom. She said that I shouldn’t talk to you. I shouldn’t think about you. She said I should put my energy to good use and make use of the pain.” Her shoulders slouched. “I always knew she was never fond of men, but there was just something in her eyes and a far off tone in her voice that made me sure she wasn’t just taking the opportunity to talk about how awful the male gender really is.”
Prue’s lips, now tinted with a very pale cotton candy blue, quivered in the frigid morning air. “In the days following your de…departure, I tried to put her words to use. Oh Andy, I tried so hard to focus on anything besides you. But I couldn’t. I can’t. You haunt my thoughts, my memories, my dreams…You’re everywhere. I know you don’t mean to be, but you are. I can’t do anything without you anymore. You’re so close and yet so far, far away.”
She scrubbed her arm with her fingers, trying to rub warmth back into it. Her entire body was slowly beginning to numb from the cold. “I got a letter from Susan today. Your ex-wife, remember? I couldn’t believe my eyes when I opened it. She said she hadn’t gotten word about what happened until a few weeks ago, but she said she still wanted to send her condolences. Apparently, so she says, you talked about me a lot when you were together. She said by the way you talked about me, I was probably the closest thing to family besides your parents. And she said the hardest thing to do is move on, but that’s what I should make an honest effort to do. She said,” Prue snapped, “that it would be easier that way!”
Prue’s teeth clattered together. “Well, what does she know? Has she ever lost someone as important as you?” She shook her head, allowing her dark hair to stick to her face. “She doesn’t know how hard it is. None of them do! You should see how they all look at me, Andy. They don’t know a thing. Piper and Phoebe, especially. They’re too young to remember how much it hurt when we lost Mom, and although Grams’ death was hard, we knew it was coming. But you…you still had your whole life ahead of you!” She could taste blood as her teeth sunk into her lower lip. “A whole life that I thought we were going to share together.”
Mama says that I just shouldn’t speak to you
Susan says that I should just move on
You oughta see the way these people look at me
When they see me ‘round here taking to this stone
Everybody thinks I’ve lost my mind
But I just take it day by day
Susan says that I should just move on
You oughta see the way these people look at me
When they see me ‘round here taking to this stone
Everybody thinks I’ve lost my mind
But I just take it day by day
Prudence buried her head into her knees, sobbing softly once more. The once strong, fearless leader of the Power of Three was now just a crumbling, grief stricken woman. Susceptible to the pain of loss, just like anybody and everybody else. Every day, a little more of her died inside. Every day without Andy, it killed her just a little more, and every time it was like another stab through her heart.
A cool breeze rustled the licorice locks on the side of her face. She lifted her head, staring across the cemetery with bleary vision. Her heart gave a heavy jolt. For a moment, she thought she could see the faintest outline of a man in a dark suit and crumby sneakers, with a handsome jaw line and the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen. She lifted her hand, stretching it out as far as she could to touch him. “A-Andy?”
Prue’s fought back the urge to blink. Her body ached as she leaned that much farther in a pleading attempt to touch him one more time. And then her eyes shut for the briefest of seconds in one, swift blink. And he was gone. She let out another strained sob. “No! Andy, come back!”
I probably wouldn’t be this way
I probably wouldn’t hurt so bad
I never pictured every minute without you in it
Oh you left so fast
Sometimes I see you standing there
Sometimes I feel an angel’s touch
Sometimes I feel that I’m so lucky to have had a chance to love this much
God gave me a moment’s grace
‘Cause if I’d never seen your face
I probably wouldn’t be this way
I probably wouldn’t hurt so bad
I never pictured every minute without you in it
Oh you left so fast
Sometimes I see you standing there
Sometimes I feel an angel’s touch
Sometimes I feel that I’m so lucky to have had a chance to love this much
God gave me a moment’s grace
‘Cause if I’d never seen your face
I probably wouldn’t be this way
Prue staggered to her feet, numbly reaching out for her lover. But Andy was gone. He’d been gone for a long time now, and he was never coming back. He couldn’t come back, and she knew it. The reality of the situation made her feel nauseas and weak. Prue clutched her stomach in a vain attempt to calm her swirling insides. “What did I tell you?” She asked, barely above a whisper. “You haunt me where ever I go.” A mascara laden tear fell from her cheek, spattering fine black liquid onto the outer petals of the rose that lay at Prue’s feet.
I probably wouldn’t be this way
“I have to go now,” she whispered. “But I’ll be back to see you soon. Maybe tomorrow?” Prue ran her fingers across the edge of the headstone again. “And I’ll bring you a new rose, too, okay? I promise.” Her lips quivered. “And I won’t break this one, I swear.” She collected her purse and took a few steps away from the headstone.
“Andy,” she said suddenly. “I forgot to tell you.” Her voice was too calm. It was clear that she’d buried all of her pain away, until the next time she was alone with him. “I’m seeing Father Austin and his son a week from Friday.” She swallowed hard. “He’s doing much better, by the way.” Her blue eyes studied the stone. “Is there anything you’d like me to tell him for you?” Silence filled the air…and then she nodded. “Okay.”
Got a date a week from Friday with the preacher’s son
Everybody says I’m crazy
Guess I’ll have to see
Everybody says I’m crazy
Guess I’ll have to see
Prue turned slowly and began to walk down the same path she followed to get to the grave. A small noise broke from deep in her throat, but it was hidden by the clap of thunder overhead. As she blinked, two black tears carved lines down her cheeks and fell towards the dirt path. Above, the sky tore open, releasing a torrent of freezing rain upon San Francisco. And Prue began to run.
